Fourteen Years
by Pazel
Summary: MattxOC and NearxOC. A lemon or two later. Love story. x3
1. A Reunion

"Near, I can't find that action figure," you mumbled, pushing you hair behind your ears.

"Hail?" a familiar voice called.

You looked up and gasped. "Mello? Mello!" You ran up to him and hugged him.

"What did you do to your hair?" he asked, nodding toward you.

You played with your hair. "I had it highlighted It. I thought it wou-"

"I don't like it," Mello told you.

"That's what I said," Near muttered, looking at a Lego piece.

You rolled your eyes.

Let's back up.

Your real name is Hikari, God only knows what your last name is. You have long brown hair and brown eyes, big and innocent. You're 18, and fourth in line to succeed the great L. Your best friends? They're the three in front of you, even though they don't really like each other. Your intelligence is slightly above average, and you have a few slight quirks. Nervous habits like cracking your knuckles and fidgeting and talking to yourself, among many other things. You have a large vocabulary and a creative mind. Your initiative is quite low, but you can think fast. You're fourth in line because of your great compassion to contrast the boys' hearts of stone. Right now, you're staring at Mello, who, for one reason or another, is burned at the face. So, of course, you're worried sick and cracking your fingers. Also, he was holding a gun to Near, but let it drop when he saw you, knowing it would probably push you over the edge with worry. You don't know what's going on, but you can probably guess because Mello is only predictable when he's fighting Near, making his inferiority complex everyone's problem.

Back to the story.

"Hail, why don't you come back with me for a while?" Mello asked casually.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Near growled.

"Aw, Near. I've been here a week. I want to go live with Mello for a while. No need to worry. I'll be back in a few days." You patted him on the shoulder. There was no reason not to go see Mello for a while. You packed a suitcase and left.

Near frowned and you thought you heard him say, "I wonder if I'll see her again."

You followed Mello to a car which brought you to a hideout. Inside was a couch with several people sitting on it, casually chatting to each other, the television on, showing something you couldn't see from your angle. The place smelled like sweat and blood and booze and chocolate and video game cases and cigarette smoke. Your head twirled with the disgusting smell men can somehow live with.

Wait a minute.

Video games? Cigarette smoke?

Oh, God.

You twirled to face Mello, who was next to you, introducing you as "Hail, a friend from Wammy's." He looked at you and smiled mischievously, as if to say, "Gotcha."

The sound on the television stopped and the screen went black.

"What's up, Matt?" one of the men asked a thin boy, hidden between two burly men. He stood noiselessly, as was his custom.

You eyed that boy. First you saw his boots, his jeans, a furry vest, gloved hands, striped long-sleeve shirt, cigarette, goggles, and the red hair.

"Hey, Matt," you said casually.

He raised an eyebrow. He took a drag of the cigarette then asked, "What did you do to your hair?"

"Oh, this? There are a few blonde highlights. I thought that I should change it a little," you told him.

"I don't like it," he said flatly. You frowned, but at least he let you explain, unlike Mello, and Near had just said "I don't like it" when you walked through the door. Your frown turned to a smile as your eyes met Matt's.

He walked over to you and held out his hand to shake.

"It's been a long time," you remarked.

"Too long," he breathed too quietly for you to comprehend.

"Hm?"

"Nothing."

Two sturdy palms pushed into your back and forced you into Matt's arms.

He caught you, as expected. Mello snickered behind you, as did a few of the smelly guys with him. You turned to them. They each pointed to someone different.


	2. Around friends

So it had been a while since you last saw Matt. Five odd years, it seemed. You had been with him every day of your lives for fourteen years. Same with Mello and Near. When they left, you stayed behind (even though they had wanted you to come) and finished high school. You wanted to go to college. You wanted to be a lawyer. Now you weren't sure what to do.

You stared at the ceiling, your head on Mello's lap, your body spread out on the couch. He played with your hair absentmindedly, which was the color of bark and his own. The men around you were staring at you. Mello finally lost it and told them to "Keep your eyes off of the lady!"

"The lady"? When had you become anything other than one of "the guys"? You could hold your liquor better than Mello, strip a chicken wing to the bone faster than Matt, and you could burp the ABCs. The only feminine thing about you was your pathetically small chest, facial features, hips, and the fact that you showered several times a day. You happened to hate sweat. On mildly warm days, you refused to even leave the house.

You frowned and sat up, noticing Mello pout slightly. You ruffled his hair and he slapped your hand playfully away, only slightly pissed that it was messed up.

"Idiot," he grumbled with a small smirk.

Matt walked into the room, a towel wrapped around his waist, hair dripping, goggles fogged. He avoided your eyes and sat down. One of the men put his hand over your eyes.

"Matt, close your legs!" You heard the slap of his legs banging together. "That's no way to sit around a girl!" You couldn't help but giggle. You didn't tell the man that you and Matt had gone through potty training days together, swimming classes, shared a room, and even once walked in on him dressing, and therefore had seen the grand endowment several times before.

The man lowered his hand and apologized for Matt's behavior. The man didn't "know what had gotten into him".

Matt sighed and rolled his eyes as he picked up a plastic guitar.

Guitar Hero III.

Oh, yes.

"I'm playing," you announced. There was silence around you. Apparently they knew of Matt's video game ability, and of course no girl could keep up. You rolled your eyes.

Matt set it to expert without a word.

"Piece of cake," you growled and picked up the second guitar. Mello walked into the kitchen.

"You'll need these," Mello declared, handing out beer.

You began to battle against Matt. By two am, your audience was all either asleep or passed out drunk. He had beat you by the slightest margin possible. It it had been anyone else, you probably would have had a tantrum. Only Matt could beat you without any complaint from you. Because the two of you were so wrapped up in the game, neither Matt nor you had had anything to drink. You let out a sigh at the sight of the passed out men. Only two others were awake besides Matt and yourself.

Matt grabbed your hand and pulled you up and to his room. Behind you, there were two loud hollers of encouragement. You weren't a little girl. You knew what he wanted, and what was coming next. You knew, yet you were in a sea of confusion.

"C'mon, Hail. Let's have fun." He kissed you hard, jamming you against the wall. His palms were flat against the wall on either side of your head, and your fingers twisted in his hair. You wrapped your legs around him. You tried in vain to keep his towel on. It fell to the floor, but he didn't seem ashamed. The two of you made your way to the bed. You were lost in him, not believing he would ever wanted to kiss you like this. There was real passion in it. You knew there was. When you hit the bed, you pushed him away.

"Hail, don't you want me?" He looked hurt. You were confused. You knew you loved him, there was no doubt of that, but why did you stop? His goggles shined in the moonlight flooding in from the window. His eyes now a bring orange, hair a deep red, a hurt look on his face? He looked like a demon, but a demon with no intention of evil.

"I'm not ready," you whispered. Your nails scratched at your jeans over your thighs. He frowned for a minute and picked up his towel and and left the room.


	3. Panic Attack

Three days went by, and Matt refused to look at you. Had you hurt his heart or his manhood?

You were staring at your face in the mirror, looking for some hint. By no means were you beautiful. Slightly chubby, especially in the thighs, which was why you never wore skirts or shorts. Your face alright, shining with bright, lively dark brown eyes but shamed with thin lips. Your hair was pretty. It was thick and dark brown, with Mello's colored highlights, courtesy of the hair salon. You liked them. The other guys Mello and Matt lived with liked them. Why didn't the people who were most important? You knew why.

You looked different. Not like the way you used to. You didn't change much over the years body wise (except maybe a bit wider, but nobody talked about that and lived to tell the tale), and personality wise, you were the same as you were when you were six. Whammy's kids just didn't change much that way. The difference was your hair. If Mello, Matt, or Near had a different color, you knew it wouldn't fly with you either.

Note to self: Never change anything again.

You got in the shower. You hadn't taken one in at least four hours. You let the warm water run and thought to yourself. For some reason, running water always made you think clearer. Your best ideas came when in the bathroom, either taking a shower or brushing your teeth, or washing your hands. Water was everything to you. It was probably another reason you took so many showers a day.

When you got out, you changed into pajamas and walked out, your chest-length hair tied up into bun to keep your back dry.

Matt walked by. He wavered a moment, like he wanted to stop and talk to you, but he kept walking and hopped onto the couch. This made you angry. You wanted to knock some sense into him. You wanted to make him know you were sorry that you wouldn't... couldn't...

Your mind whirled. _Oh, who cares?! If he wants to be mad, let him! If he wants to be a pussy and ignore me, let him! I couldn't care less what was wrong with him. If he wants to misunderstand, then I refuse to give in to him._

"Matt, I'm sorry," you found yourself saying. You were kneeling on the floor by his feet, staring at the floor. _Damn it,_ you thought to yourself.

"Look, Hail's a lap dog!" You heard behind you. There was a roar of laughter. _I should kill them all right now,_ you thought to yourself.

"Get up," Matt said. He didn't move, but he looked down at you through his goggles. "I'm not mad."

This pissed you off. "Of course your mad! You just.." Your sudden bought of anger made a light sheet of sweat cover your body. Your eyes widened and you shrieked as you ran to the sink and ran the cold water over your face, neck, arms, and any other part of your body not covered by clothes.

Nobody laughed. This was not funny. Your fear of sweat was something no one laughed at, thank God. If they did, everyone around you would be doomed to a bout of laughter each time you so much as blushed.

Nobody spoke. Well, a few people tried, but they were silenced. You leaned against the sink with the water running for at least ten minutes, thinking. The television turned on. Dr. Phil? You loved Dr. Phil.

You wandered over to the couch and sat down, watching about a couple in dire need of help for their marriage. The water got turned off behind you.

"You okay?" one of the men asked. You never did remember their names. You didn't really care. You shrugged

"Maybe I should go live with Near," you said to yourself. Near's place was always ice cold. Apparently he liked cold temperatures. You knew he just did it to keep you comfortable.

"No way! Get her a fan!" Mello barked. Obviously he wasn't going to lose to Near, even when the competition was keeping you comfortable.

You rolled your eyes. "It's okay. I feel better." Your panic attack seemed to calm. You were so proud of yourself. You didn't cry, and you didn't even throw up, which was the normal reaction.

Mello put a bowl full of ice on the side table anyway. "Just in case," he muttered.

Matt patted your head. "I don't want you to leave, either. I don't want you to go back to Near. Not yet."

You blinked, dazed and confused at his words and touch.

Near?

Near who?


	4. Forgotten Dreams Come True

**Kudos to Kanki Youji for helping my story make gramarical sense. x3 I must seem like an idiot with all the corrections that had to be made. MAYBE NEXT TIME I'LL PROOF READ IT. xD**

--

Another day went by. It had been at least 24 hours since your panic attack. You spent all day with Matt. He was doing his best to help you overcome your fear of sweat and blushing because Mello had been on his ass all day about it.

"He can't do it because he's not afraid of anything. The most compassionate thing you'll get out of him is a 'Suck it up, sweat can't hurt you!' and he'll send you on your way," Matt was explaining.

You strained to listen, but you kept drifting away to a dream. You were in a beautiful white dress with a train twelve feet back. The dress had long lace sleeves and looked almost uncomfortably tight around your neck, but you didn't feel the discomfort. The train was silk and shining in the lights.

The church you were in was packed with people, all too close for comfort and sweating, but it was like that had no effect on you. You didn't even bat a fake eyelash. The place must have been air-conditioned, or maybe you weren't sweating? But the dress seemed to be made of heavy material that would certainly make you sweat, and you were probably blushing with all the eyes on you. You didn't think about it as you began down the isle.

You were in the middle isle, everyone's eyes on you. Music played from a deep organ at the front of the church, the happy tune without the words "here comes the bride". Out of the corner of your eye, you saw everyone's body turned towards you. You stared down at the bouquet which was filled with pink roses and baby's breath. You didn't want to cry, but you knew you would. However, no tears fell. You didn't notice.

Your usually tan skin was a pale white thanks to a shit load of make up, and your hair was down, which was rare for you. You usually kept it in a messy ponytail. The boys called it a "squirrel tail" because it was usually a tangled mess. In your dream, it was shiny and wavy, like a Disney princess'. Your eyes scanned the faces in the church. No one had a face. They were blurred, almost non-existent, but it was like that was the norm. You didn't care. You didn't notice anything was odd.

You walked toward the altar where a man stood with his arm outstretched toward you. However, you couldn't see his face. You continued walking toward the altar, short and slow steps matching the pace of the music so everyone could gasp and stare as you walked by. You walked up the few steps and stood on the altar, an overwhelming mixture of happiness and guilt overtook you.

"Are you asleep?" the man at the altar asked.

You groggily opened your eyes. Matt was leaning over you, frowning.

You wiped your drool on your arm. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

Matt sighed. "It's fine. You only dozed off for a few minutes. If you're that tired, maybe you should take a nap."

"No!" you exclaimed. "I'm fine." Looking back at your dream, the blurred faces were slightly scary. You didn't want that dream again, or another one like it. You wanted to overcome your silly fear.

"I did some research," Matt began, "and your fear means you're socially anxious." He didn't stop to ask whether you were or not. He knew he had hit the nail on the head. "So, we'll make you less afraid of social situations. We'll face our fears together."

You knew he was talking about his fear of being outside. "How?"

"Let's..." he took a deep breath. "go on a date."

--

The next day, you were in a car, bouncing happily in the passenger seat. Matt sat behind the wheel, a smile on his face, a cigarette in his mouth.

"We're going to an amusement park," Matt announced.

You frowned. You didn't have the happiest memories of amusement parks. The rides were fun until the adrenalin rush made you break into a sweat.

"There are water rides, too, Hail. You'll be fine."

"Mmm."

Matt sighed and pulled into the park. It was huge and multicolored. You smiled at the thought of overcoming your fear. Your heart began to beat madly, and your pores let out a light sweat. You gasped.

And Matt kissed you.

It wasn't long and passionate. It was short and awkward. He pulled away, the kissed you again, slightly longer and much less awkwardly.

Then he muttered words that made you feel like you could overcome anything. He said, "Don't be afraid. I'm right here with you."

You forgot you were afraid of sweat, but not for very long. You blushed, coating yourself with a thicker coat of it. You began to hyperventilate, but Matt just helped you out and dragged you to the ticket booth where you got yellow wrist bands. The woman working there gave you a look as she stamped your hand, and before you knew what was happening, Matt dragged you to the first ride.

It went thirty-odd feet up and crashed into water. That would cool you down. It took a while before you got your turn, but that was alright. Matt hugged you close, and even though that made you sweat more, he wouldn't let go. Then it was your turn.

You got into the ride and began the journey upward. Then, before you knew it, you where rushing down and splashed into a wall of water. The two of you got off the ride laughing and dripping wet.

The next place you was a photo place. It wasn't a photo booth, but a large room where you could dress up in anything you want (provided that they had the costume for it) and get your picture taken for a ridiculous amount of money.

Matt threw something at you. A long white gown.

"I'm wearing this." He held up a tuxedo. "Get dressed."

You came out of the changing booth in a wedding gown. It had a long silk train and long lace sleeves. It was uncomfortable around the neck, but you didn't complain.

The man working there put a painted scene up behind you. The scene was an altar with pews of people looking to where the bride and groom were standing. There was a big organ to the left of the altar. The scene seemed so familiar, but you couldn't remember where you had seen it.

Then you saw Matt. He was in the tux, but he had kept his goggles on and his hair was messy. You giggled at how mixed up he looked. You walked over to him, tripping over the dress once. He laughed and held his arm out for you so you wouldn't trip again. You raised an eyebrow. You knew this was familiar. Why?

Matt grabbed you and pulled you up with him. "Smile," he whispered. Then a bright flash captured the moment.


	5. Confusion, Confusion, and A Question

Today had been the best, most embarrassing day of your life. You kept the pictures the two of you had taken in separate picture frames on your side table. There were five in total. The first with his arms around you, the second with him holding you bridal style, the third with you giving him a surprise kiss on the cheek, the fourth with the two of you hugging, and the fifth with him lighting a cigarette.

Matt had thought you would only get four pictures, and with his nicotine addiction just as bad as your shower fetish, he had lit one right away. You liked that one best. You were staring up at him surprised and slightly disgusted, confused at why he had chosen that as a wedding pose.

Matt had had the same reaction when the camera flashed. The man taking the pictures laughed. He couldn't help but take one of him smoking, and had offered a sixth picture. You didn't accept, although Matt wanted another one.

"I want all the memories I can get of you in a wedding dress standing next to me in a tux," Matt had told you. You remembered blushing and sweating a little, but you stopped when he added, "It was the only time you've ever even looked relatively attractive next to me."

Through the whole thing, all five pictures, you had been blushing. It was caught on camera. That means you must have been sweating at least a little bit. You bit your lip in confusion. Why didn't it bother you?

It was dinner time now. You were eating in your room, laying comfortably on your stomach looking at the five pictures. In front of you on a plate was something black and burned that had once been something like tofu. You laughed to yourself as you wondered who had cooked it.

Matt knocked on the door of your room and let himself in before you could tell him whether or not he was welcome.

"I could have been dressing!" you argued.

Matt rolled his eyes. "You only get dressed after a shower," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "which you haven't taken in six hours. Congratulations! You're not overly obsessed with cleanliness anymore."

"I doubt a day at the amusement park cured me," you laughed.

Matt shrugged and sat next to you. He was looking at the pictures, too. He leaned over you and grabbed the third one.

"I want to keep this one," he told you.

"Ok." You didn't really want to ask him why.

Matt looked at the picture and rubbed the glass. "Do you remember what I told you today?"

"The crack about the wedding dress?" you asked, your voice annoyed.

"Yeah. I didn't mean that last..." his voice trailed off. He puckered his lips and stared at the picture.

"You didn't mean that last part?" you finished, feeling slightly egotistic.

"I- never mind. Forget I said anything." He stood up and sighed. "I'm taking this picture. It's the only one where it wasn't me making the pose, so I like it."

"Wait!" you called as he reached the door. "What did mean just now? Never mind what?" He gave you a look. "Oh, just tell me!" you pleaded.

He stood a moment and then said, "I thought it sounded mushy alone, so I made a joke. So what?" But before you could say anything, he left.

--

"Mello, buddy," you called when you had finished your tar-black-probably-tofu dinner.

"What?" he asked you.

You grabbed him and pulled him into your dark room. You pushed him onto your bed and stood with your knees against his and your arms crossed.

You could sense his eyes widen. "Oh, Hail, look.. I just see you as a friend. Not that I wouldn't do you, seriously, but I can't get it up for Matt's girl-"

"Matt's girl? What? Ugh! Shut up, Mello! That's not what I'm looking for!" You rolled your eyes in disgust and whispered, "men!"

"Oh. What do you need then?"

"How does Matt feel about me?"

"Damn it, Hail. You on your period? Why're you asking me about feelings?" Mello tried to get up, but you pushed him back down on your bed.

You tapped your foot. "Tell me."

"No!" He stood up, measuring about three inches taller than you.

You grabbed his neck, your long nails digging into his skin. "Tell. Me."

"You are on your period, aren't you?" Mello slapped your hand away. "Crazy bitch!"

Your eyes widened, but you couldn't help but laugh at his bewildered tone. "Please, Mello?"

Mello sighed and gave in. "You should know him well enough that when he not only tries to screw you, but also makes you dress up like his bride-" he nodded toward the pictures "and takes the one you kiss him in, he's not playin' you."

There was a knock and then the door opened, letting the light in, along with Matt.

"Thank God we're vertical," Mello muttered. You giggled in response. Matt smiled and rubbed his neck then nodded toward Mello, who had four, small finger-shaped bruises and one cut where your longest nail had dug in.

Mello looked in the mirror. "Damn it, Hail! Damn you and your menstrual tempers! Don't expect me to cook for you again!"

You laughed. "You called that cooking? It was more like grabbing a handful of coal, putting it on a plate, and calling it tofu."

Mello's mouth dropped. "It. Was. Chicken." He stomped out dramatically, his boots banging into the ground, making the walls shake.

Matt closed the door. "If he was anime, I bet he'd have a big red vein on the back of his head."

You giggled at his joke. "He's only mad because Near can cook."

The two of you laughed for a long time.

"Hey, Hail?"

"Mm?"

"I was wondering if you'd do something for me." Matt's eyes looked down, as if he were too afraid to ask.

"Anything," you insured.

He looked up at you. "Absolutely anything?"

You cocked an eyebrow, but didn't pause. "Absolutely."

Matt smiled. "Good."

When he didn't say anything else, you asked, "What do you want me to do?"

Matt took a deep breath. "Marry me."


	6. Childhood Memories

You laughed. "Yeah. Sure." Your tone was obviously sarcastic. "What do you really want?"

"I'm serious." He lit a cigarette. "I want you to marry me. I'm tired of courting you. That's enough."

"Courting me? We've been on one date." Your eyebrow was cocked with confusion and suspicion.

"We've known each other for years. When I was little, I had planned the wedding. I wrote it all on this piece of paper. Here," he said as he handed you an crumpled piece of lined paper. "Ignore the spelling. I was young."

You opened it then turned on the light. It was filled with childish spelling errors.

_"Some day I want to marry Hail and this is what I am going to do. First I will get a wite tuckseto because she likes it beter then the black ones."_

You giggled. You remembered telling him that once, when Watari dressed up for Christmas. He had worn a white tux instead of a black one, saying it looked better with the snow. You had thought the white one was much better than black, and you still do.

_"Then I will make the church be full of hour frends and L will be there to."_

Your eyebrows turned up at the mention of L's name.

_"We will have alot of flowers and it will be very pritty. The flowers will be pink and blew because Hail likes those colurs. She will be beuteful in her weding dress but she is pritty in every thing so it does not mater."_

You smiled.

_"Mello will be my best man because he is my best frend. Near will not be envited because if he gose Mello will not. Or he mite but he will be a meanie and say how he is in the weding and Near is not and that mite make Hail sad."_

You laughed at the truth of the words. Mello, even then, was competitive. You thought of getting married. Near would have to be there. He was your friend, and no matter what, he would get an invitation.

_"Then the preast will make us maried and I get to kiss her but I will not because that is gross!!"_

You laughed again, remembering a time when boys were gross. You saw that there was only one sentence left.

_"But I feel bad for makeing Near sad because he loves her to."_ Underneath that last sentence was a drawn picture of a wedding.

"Matt," you began. You read the last sentence again a few times, confused. "What did you mean here?"

"Hm?" He walked over and you pointed out the sentence. He looked at you. "You're kidding, right?

You looked at him. "Kidding? No."

Matt took a cigarette out of his mouth for a long speech. "You were good friends with Near as kids, because the two of you could just be quiet together. He always liked you. How do you think Mello got to know me? He heard from a few giggling girls you liked me. So, I was his new best friend. Why do you think Mello introduced me to you? Why do you think he was so eager to get you closer to me? To hurt Near. It was his plan to get us close, for you to forget Near. But he didn't think you were as pure as you are. You never left Near. If he was sick, you stayed by his side, no matter how much Mello tried to coax you away. If he was sad, you would stay with him, and Mello would try to get you away, but you didn't leave. You are a good person, Hail." Matt then seemed to notice something. You were seething.

You ran out of your room.

"Hail? Hail, wait!" Matt ran after you. He got out of the room just fast enough to hear the slap of your palm against Mello's cheek.

"You used me, Mello?" you screamed.


	7. An Explanation

You saw Matt wince as the chocolate bar Mello had been munching on fell to the floor from shock. Mello's scar seemed to stretch an extra hand size- bright, red, and angry.

"_What_ the _fuck_ is _wrong _with you?" Mello yelled. He stood up, staring down at you with anger burning in his light eyes.

"Don't you _dare_ ask me that, you liar!" You screamed as loud as you could, hoping to pop his eardrums.

Mello grabbed your shoulders and shook you. "What are you _talking_ about?" He shook you more. "What's gotten _into_ you? Are you _insane_?"

He obviously didn't know what was going on. You decided to clear it up for him. "Mello, how did we become friends? Or, more specifically, _why_ did we become friends?"

His eyes flew to Matt. "What did you _say_ to her, Matt?"

Matt's hands flew up, trying to show innocence. "All I did was show her the paper and answer questions."

"Are you-" Mello pinched the bridge of his nose for just a moment. He obviously didn't want to say something that would offend Matt. Which was odd, because Mello never held back.

"Why would you do that?" he asked, much calmer now.

"Because I can," Matt retorted. Matt wasn't an angel, either, but usually he just took whatever Mello threw at him without trying to dodge it. Damn testosterone.

There were a few "Oooh"s from the couch, as the boys tried to encourage the fight. You silenced them with a wave of your hand.

"Mello, Matt was right when he told me. I want to know why _you_ never told me yourself. Why did you use me like that?" You were on the verge of crying, but you weren't sure if you were angry or sad. It didn't matter right now.

"Tell you that I used you?" Mello began. "That's great. 'Hey, Hail. Just so you know, I only started to talk to you because you and Near were so close and I hate him and want him to be miserable. Just thought you should know. So, yeah. We cool, though?' I can't see that happening."

You rubbed your face, trying to play it off as annoyance but you were really wiping away your tears. You took a breath to calm down. You didn't want your voice to crack. "Mello..." You stopped talking. You were so disgusted, so sad, so angry, and so ashamed that you had believed every lie Mello had told you.

"It's not what you think," Mello tried to explain.

You laughed. "What is it, then? What on _God's green earth_ is it?"

Mello started over. "I mean, I did use you, but- Matt, stop looking at me like that!"

You turned to Matt who shrugged. Matt must have seen that your eyes were red, if that's possible through orange goggles, because he came over and hugged you.

"Fine. _Be_ on her side," Mello spat. His words felt as cold as icicles. Venomous as poison. Kinda like poison icicles.

"I'm not on her side. She just needs help standing," Matt told him. Then you realized your knees had been shaking. "You're standing fine. And you're not the one crying."

Mello's expression changed. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground. "I didn't mean to make her cry," he mumbled to Matt as if you weren't there. He scuffed his feet like a guilty kid.

Matt didn't say anything else. You didn't say anything else. Even Mello stayed silent.

You shook out of Matt's grasp and went to bed, your emotions occupying your mind so it didn't notice the sweat rolling down your face. Or was it tears? You were to tired to notice, but you didn't sleep. When everyone's doors had closed, you got up. You packed a suit case.

"I should never have left Near's. He was right. Damn it," you muttered to yourself as you packed your clothes. You left your room, ready to leave. You'd probably hitchhike to Near's since you didn't have enough money for a cab. Matt would understand. There was no way you could get married right now.

The hideout was all dark except for a single lamp that illuminated an overstuffed chair that was bursting at the seams. Mello sat on that chair, his hands clasped, his thumbs wrestling each other.

He looked up as you walked out of your room. Had he been expecting you? He sure as hell didn't look surprised. He looked _sad._

You wanted to ignore him and leave, but your feet wouldn't move. He stood up gracefully and walked over to you.

"Please hear me out," he whispered. "For Matt."

He didn't have to add that last part. He knew that you would listen no matter what. That was just the way you were. You couldn't throw away fourteen years of friendship just like that. What were you without the three people you held closest? Nothing.

He led you to the couch. You sat down, but he didn't. He paced back and fourth, tweaking what he wanted to say until it sounded perfect.

"Just say it," you whispered.

"Yes, I did u-," he winced "use you. I was six. Shoot me."

When you didn't laugh, he went on. "I though that if I could get you away from Near, I'd've finally won at something, ya know? I heard you liked Matt. So, I had to find out what kind of person Matt was.

"I asked around, and finally found this little red-haired dork, sitting in front of the television watching Sailor Moon, saying, 'I wish I had powers.' I'll never forget that. He was just muttering to himself about how cool life would be with superpowers.

"Then I said, 'Are you Matt?' and he looked up at me, real surprised, and nodded. So I introduced myself as Mello. I have to say, I was a little put off by the goggles, but he was wearing them on his head. He said he liked looking at Sailor Moon without the orange tint." Mello laughed. "He always was a bit of a pervert. Not that I'm really one to talk.

"But anyway, I watched him for a few days. I noticed he didn't really have any friends, so I realized how easy it would be to become his friend. He didn't have a whole group that I would have to please, and I didn't have to share his attention. Just him and me, and soon, of course, you.

"But I wasn't worried about getting you away from Near. I had a secret weapon. We were already friendly, you and I. Do you remember?" Mello saw you nod then continued.

"So when I introduced you to my new friend, I saw you blush. But I didn't count on your whole 'phobia'. You not only ran away, which I really expected, but you were panicking. Watari picked you up and brought you to the sink. I remember L was there, too, and he was fussing over you, as well. Then he took you in for a whole "Twenty Questions" deal and noted you as fourth in line."

You remembered that. Wammy kids don't just forget the first time they see L. He was God. Everything you were striving to be, in the flesh. You didn't remember the specific questions he asked you, but you remembered the smile he gave you at the end of the interrogation.

"Eventually, you got used to having Matt around. When you blushed around him, you didn't panic. When you would sweat, well, that's a different story," he chuckled. "And as time went on, you became a real friend to me. It's not like I ever forgot I lied to you. I just rather not think of it. Then Matt started to like you, too, which I hadn't expected. You two got close. Matt became my friend, too. I didn't like how close you two had gotten, but I lived with it because it worked for me. You never noticed-" he stopped short.

"What, Mello?" you asked, putting a pause between the two words. There was a long silence. "Mello? What?"

"Tch." Mello rubbed his arm. He was gathering his thoughts. You let him think quietly. "Near. You didn't notice Near. You saw him less and less. He always looked over at us with this sad face, but your back would be turned. He never let you see him suffer. Not once. But, you never forgot about him.

"When he was sick, I tried to get you to come play with us. You told me, 'No, Mello. Near's sick today.'" Mello did his best seven-year-old-Hail impression. "So I got Matt, but it was useless. 'I have to take his temperature!' you told him. I was listening outside the door, and I must say, you were pretty pissed. I called Matt out before you could bitch slap him.

"And on Near's birthday.. Christ. You were by his side from twelve am to twelve pm, I'm fucking sure. You're a late sleeper, Hail, and you would be up and dressed and at Near's room before the friggin' rooster in the science room crowed."

You laughed at the mention of the rooster. His name had been Bubbles. Every few years, Bubbles had a different color pattern, and when you got older, you realized Wammy's got a new one as soon as the old one died and played it off like nothing. Same with the hamsters and even the cat.

"No matter how much we told you to play with us, you stayed with that damn Near. You remember how we found out girls and boys had different, er, downstairs organs? It was Near's fifth birthday. Matt and I tried to pull you to our room to play with Legos. And then your leg swung as if your life depended on it and jammed me right in the dick. I was on the ground and you were confused. Matt kicked you in the same spot three times, but you didn't even flinch. Then Watari had to explain the anatomy to us before you killed one of us."

Mello laughed. "Matt thought you were invincible!"

You laughed at the conclusion you could see the red head jumping to. But your laughter ended as you thought about how you had hurt Near. Were you hurting him now?

Mello answered your thoughts. "He's alright, Hail. As long as you're happy. If you want to go see him, then go. But if you leave again, you'll just hurt him more. And if you leave here, you'll hurt Matt and yourself."

You weighed the pros and cons. There were no pros. No matter what, if you were hurting someone, you'd be sad.

"You're really a friend of mine, Hail. Honestly, you are." Mello patted your shoulder and went to his room.

You pulled out your cell phone and dialed a familiar number. It rang three times and a familiar voice picked up.

"Hello, Hail."

"Near.. Errr..." You tried to think of something to say.

There was silence on the other end.

"Near?"

"Yes."

You wanted to ask him if he loved you. Would that be too cocky? Too straightforward?

"Near, I might marry Matt." You didn't say it was certain, even though you were sure it was. Well, at least you wouldn't say no if he gave you a ring. There better be a damn ring.

"That's good. Am I invited?" he asked. His tone was dead, like it always was.

"You... wanna be there?" You perked up. But then a realization hit you. If he -did- love you, he'd never tell you. Mello had said that he didn't let you see him suffer. Then he would sound as normal as possible, even if he was sad. He would make it sound as if you were asking him what he wanted to eat. Unless he didn't love you. Maybe he had gotten over it. Yes, that's it. You weren't pretty. He probably didn't even think of you as anything more than a sister.

You broke into a slight panic, sweating lightly.

"I'm busy, Hail. I'll talk to you another time." Near's end clicked. You closed your cell phone and sighed. You closed your eyes tight, remembering that you were alone. No body could see your anxiety. There was nothing to be afraid of, nothing at all.

You rested your head and fell asleep.


	8. The Wedding and The Honeymoon

**One Week Later**

You were standing at the altar, in a familiar white dress (the same one from the photo shoot, as Matt had wanted). You're hair was down and wavy, resembling a Disney princess'. You were next to Matt, clad in a white tux. Mello stood near Matt, chewing smugly on a chocolate bar. The reason for his palpable smugness was because a certain white-haired boy was just sitting in a pew, not in the procession.

For the vows, Matt had just given a shrug and said, "I haven't smoked in three hours."

You had frowned and nearly slapped him for his comment, but he quickly added, "Which means I must love you a lot."

The air conditioning was on full blast, keeping you cool from any and all sweat that may leak out of your pores.

When it was your turn to say your vows, you could hardly speak. You weren't good with displaying affection, especially in public. You just shrugged.

"C'mon, Hail! At least say somethin'. I did."

You looked down at the ring Matt had given you. It was a large diamond (stolen, probably) and a silver band around it. You didn't like gold.

"I..." you sighed. "I think that.." you wanted to call this the best day of your life, but you couldn't say it in front of Near. Did he really love you? Impossible, right?

"There will never be anything quiet like this," you finished, smiling.

Matt seemed satisfied. The rest of the wedding went by like a dream.

Before you got in the car, Near handed you a flower. His voice was strong when he said, "congratulations."

And then you were in a car, Matt at the wheel, you in the passenger seat, driving to God knows where. You were staring at Matt. Literally staring. You weren't blinking, you were barely breathing. At a red light, Matt looked at you.

"What the hell?" he asked, You blushed. He hugged you. "Don't just stare at me like that. At least say something."

You couldn't possibly say anything. Your mind was whirling with embarrassing thoughts. _God, he looks hot_. That was the worst one. No, you wouldn't tell him that.

Three hours later, you pulled into a five star hotel.

"Ritzy, huh?" you asked. Your big eyes widened.

Mat shrugged. "It's not good enough for you, but it's the best I can get."

You blushed again. Matt sure had a habit of saying what was on his mind. You weren't sure if that was good or not. Matt smiled at you and pulled your suitcases out of the back seat.

He carried them into the hotel, an impatient smile on his face.

Then it hit you.

This was the honeymoon.

Fuck.

--

As soon as you got to your room, Matt started.

"So... what do you want to... do?" He acted innocent, but you saw through that act. A blind man could see through that act.

You sat on the queen sized bed, the only bed in the room. "Let's watch TV!" you exclaimed, grabbing the clicker.

He frowned. "I'll turn the air conditioner on."

"Too cold."

"Extra blankets."

You frowned. It wasn't like you didn't want to, it was just a poor body image.

Matt rubbed his hands over your shoulders. He hugged you close to him. "Please?" he begged.

You looked at your lap and cracked your knuckles three different ways.

Matt's voice was serious. "You don't have to be nervous."

You looked up at your husband. "No, I can't."

He kissed your cheek. "It'll be fine. There's nothing to be worried about."

His voice was so comforting, so sturdy. Damn it. You couldn't refuse him. "Alright."

All too eagerly, he unzipped your dress and seemed to pull you out of it. You scurried under the blankets, almost terrified. He chuckled.

"Really, there's nothing to worry about." He pulled off his shirt. You stared at the wall to keep yourself from staring at him.

You pulled of your underwear, but somehow he was already undressed. He turned on the air conditioning and climbed under the blankets as well.

He kissed your neck. You slapped your thighs together, afraid.

"Hail, please," Matt sighed. "This is unfair. I finally get to see you naked since age nine and you're scared to death."

You frowned.

"It'll only hurt for a minute," he insured. He didn't get that you weren't afraid of the pain. Well, you weren't anticipating it, but that wasn't why you were afraid. You sure as hell didn't think you were good enough, that's all. But he didn't seem to think there was anyone else for him. Even Mello had said so. You took a deep breath.

Your muscles relaxed and Matt smiled. He got on top of you, promising to be as careful as possible.

There was a pain, but not as bad as you had expected. There was a little blood, too, but it wasn't so bad, either. After about a minute, maybe less, the pain went away and turned into a feeling you couldn't describe.

Matt was obviously not a virgin, which pissed you off quite a bit. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he told you exactly what to do. Your bodies seemed to be in sync, but that might have been just because Matt was in charge of the whole thing. A few minutes into it, something happened inside of you. You were intensified, and for the first time, you let out a loud moan.

When you quieted down, Matt stopped for a second. He looked down at you, a sweaty mess, and smiled. He kissed you so hard that it hurt. When you couldn't push him off, you bit his lip.

He looked at you, eyes wide from the bite. There was a huge smile on his face. He whispered to himself, "I made you do that. I did it."

You wanted to ask what he meant, but you couldn't form words. When you didn't say anything, he continued.

The whole thing lasted about seven minutes. You got dressed almost immediately, but he didn't feel the need to. You fell asleep on his chest.

--

_**Ring! Ring!**_

It was two am. You felt Matt's arm stretch to the side table and pick up his phone.

"Mello?" he asked groggily. "No, you didn't interrupt anything." His voice was annoyed.

Then he sat up. "Right now? When, then? Okay, I'll be there."

"What happened?" you asked.

"Mello needs me. We have to go. Now." Matt jumped out of bed and got dressed. He pulled the suitcases to the car and you checked out.

--

"Mello, what exactly do I have to do?" Matt asked when you were back at the hideout. It was about four am now.

You frowned at the looks you were getting. Smiles and snickers and I-know-you-had-sex looks. "Shut up, everyone!" you yelled.

Matt hugged you. "Leave her alone," he commanded. The looks stopped.

Mello told Matt the gist of whatever was happening.

"Hail, honey, I'll be home tomorrow night, ok?" Matt asked. "We'll finish our honeymoon, I promise."

There was a roar from the men, and Matt laughed, too.

"That's not funny!" you growled.

Matt kissed you. "I have to work a few things out with Mello."

You nodded and went to bed, sad and angry, but too tired to do anything about it.

It was the morning of January 26, 2013.


	9. The Night of January 26, 2013

Matt had gone to your room for a while after he and Mello had gone over a plan. He loaded his gun while you watched, thinking about how attractive a man with a gun was.

"I'm supposed to be out doing one thing or another, to catch Kira, hopefully," he said as he hid his gun in this vest. He didn't like explaining his missions to you. You got the general idea, but you never knew exactly what went down.

"You know, last night," he said, talking with a cigarette in his mouth, "you were sweaty. Did you notice?" He turned to you, leaning against the wall.

You nodded. "Yeah, but I didn't care." You bit your lip. That had been odd. You had never been able to stand sweat on you before. You blushed. "I think it was because you said you were with me. You know, that day at the park?"

Matt nodded. "That I was with you, right? I always will be." He smiled, his goggles hiding his eyes.

You smiled back at him.

"Matt!" Mello yelled. "MATT!"

Matt sighed. "Time to go. See you tonight, OK, babe?" He took his cigarette out of his mouth and gave you a quick peck on the lips. "Don't sweat and get freaked out while I'm gone, OK? I'm still with you."

You raised an eyebrow. "Matt, what's wrong with you?"

All he did was smile and leave the room.

--

Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it.

Matt had only left twenty minutes ago, and you had already cracked every joint in your body numerous times. Why had he said that so strangely? Why hadn't he answered your last question? Why hadn't you kept him behind?

What was happening tonight? Mello had gone, too, but they had gone their separate ways. Why? What were they planning?

You pulled at your hair. The room had dwindled down to only a few men. Some had spy work for Mello, some just out for a night of drinking.

Why?

They usually drank in the hideout. Why go out tonight? Was something going to happen tonight that they did NOT want to be sober for?

You looked at the clock, which said three forty-seven pm, to the door, which didn't look like it would be opening any time soon.

"Hail, you better calm down or you'll have a conniption," one of the remaining men said calmly. However, he was on his third beer can.

"What isn't Matt telling me?" you blurted out.

He looked surprised. "I don't know what you're talking about. Honest."

You scowled. He very well DID know, but he just wasn't telling you. Maybe, once he got nice and tipsy...

You began pacing again. Maybe some television would do the trick. You turned it on and watched a sitcom for an hour. There was some nervous laughter from the men around you at the funny parts. The kind of laughter that said "I hope she doesn't change the channel". You knew that's what it meant because you once went to put up the volume and they all twitched as if they were ready to pounce on you first.

"What?" Your voice was sharp and angry. "Tell me now, I'm not fucking joking."

The men exchanged glances. You scowled deeper, and then put on the news. Mello and Matt were going to be on it, you just knew they were.

"Breaking news!" the announcer began. He told the story of a man against Kira, and blah blah blah. Then a red car came screeching to a halt to an ambush of police cars.

Dear God.

No.

Matt's car.

One of the men grabbed the clicker and changed the channel.

You had never punched anyone in the nose as hard as you did then, breaking it with a snap and grabbing the clicker back.

You changed the channel. Luckily, you hadn't missed anything.

"Don't get out," you whispered.

Matt got out out of the car.

"Get back in," you yelled. You grabbed the television as if it were Matt, as if you could force him back it. You began crying.

Matt said something you couldn't hear. All you could hear was an ear shattering scream. It almost completely blocked out the sounds of the bullets that pierced his skin.

"Hail! Hail, please, calm down!" Someone was trying to calm you. You didn't know who it was, and you didn't care. You got up, planning to rush to the scene. Someone grabbed you.

"Sorry, Hail! We have strict orders." The men were holding you down, taking every kick, scratch, and slap you dealt them without a complaint. You were crying, screaming. You didn't know what was going on around you. All you knew was that you were being held against your will away from your dy- NO! hurt husband.

"_Let go, you bastards! Let go of me! **PUT ME DOWN!** Get off! Leave me alone! Go away! I hate you! Stop it! I want to go to Matt!_" You screamed anything you could think of, flailing as hard as you could. Your mind was blank. Nothing was real.

There was no slow motion, like in movies. Everything was going too fast. It was just a moment ago you were at the altar, wasn't it?

They held you down, but not in a violent way. You were wrapped in a group hug, you in the middle. No one cried but you, but that was best. You were crying enough for them all.

"_Damn it! I hate you all. I'll never, ever forgive any of you for this, do you hear me_?" you screamed, trying to push them away.

"Hail, they told us we couldn't let you out. Matt wanted you here. He said that-"

"I don't give a shit what he said! Let me out of here!"

There was silence as the television declared. "The victim is dead! Long live K-"

The television went black and your screaming filled the air.

--

Mello didn't come home that night, either.

The men stayed with you.

"It was our order. Protect you. We can't leave if you're here." You heard that story so many times you wondered if it would ever end.

--

For a week, you didn't do anything.

No eating.

No sleeping.

Just breathing and blinking and thinking.

"Don't sweat and get freaked out while I'm gone, OK? I'm still with you."

You screamed. You cried and flailed like a kid who didn't get his way.

They tried to feed you. They once crushed a sleeping pill in a glass of water, because you passed out quickly after, only to be awaken by a horrible nightmare, the same images as on the television. That, and the sound of your screaming.

Your babysitters, as you now thought of them, didn't sleep much either. They were genuinely worried about you.

--

Eight nights after the accident, you left. You didn't pack. You just grabbed your pocketbook and four photos, the ones from your date, and left. You didn't know where you were going, but you were a smart girl. You'd figure out something


	10. Boiling Point

You opened your eyes. You were in your room, in the hideout. On the table next to you were the four photos you had taken with you in your dream last night.

Within three seconds you were out of bed, running down the hallway. There was a man holding a basket of laundry coming the opposite way. He stopped dead.

"Where's Matt?" you asked, panicked. It had all been a dream, right? A very long and sad dream.

He ignored your question. "You slept for a few hours, huh, Hail?"

Your voice was shaky. "Where is he?"

He stared at you, and you realized that he wouldn't answer. A few tears slid down your cheeks and your chest tightened painfully. He patted your back in an attempt to comfort you, but your legs gave out and you slid to the floor. He picked you up and brought you back to your room.

He put you under the blankets. "Sleep a little more." He left and came back, handing you a tissue box that was almost completely empty.

"We all miss them," he explained with a blush.

He left you to be alone, and you reluctantly gave into sleep again.

--

The next day, nine days after the accident, you finally ate again. You were starving. You ate bread only, however, because it made you feel guilty. You felt like if you ate, if you took care of yourself, you were betraying Matt.

The house was so dead. No one talked or watched television. There were no sound effects coming from Matt's room. There was no smell of chocolate or smoke.

You walked like a zombie to Matt's room. His television was on, Kingdom Hearts on pause. On his bed, you found a crumpled piece of paper and a neat one.

The crumpled one made you cry. You didn't even open it. You just held it. It was the one with the childish wedding plans. You fell to your knees again, more tears falling.

The thud brought someone running, but they backed out of the room slowly and closed the door when they saw you hadn't fainted. You crushed the crumpled paper in your hands. You felt like if you could hold onto it, you could hold onto Matt. You put the crumpled paper back on the bed and buried your head in your hands.

Everything you had wanted and gained was gone in an instant. Matt's life was taken away. Mello's, too. Life didn't seem worth living, and you then considered suicide.

If you left, you'd be with Matt again, right? Then you heard a whisper. It wasn't a real whisper. You knew it was in your head, but you didn't know where it came from. It didn't speak words, it was just a thought that came and left in an instant. It was a feeling of calm with a soul behind it. Was it Matt? No, it was probably your imagination.

You lifted your tear stained face and took the second piece of paper. For a long while, you just stared at the handwriting you remembered so well.

_"Dear Hail,_

_Do you know that every time Mello has asked me to do something dangerous, I always write you a new letter, hoping that you'd somehow find it in case I didn't come back?_

_Now that you're with me, I want to make sure that I write down absolutely everything I want to tell you._

_Saying "I love you" doesn't cut it. That's not what I would tell you if I had only a few moments left to live. I would tell you that you were always my world. To me, you didn't have any faults. To me, you weren't chubby or awkward. To me, you were someone who I thought I would spend forever and a day with. I never, ever would chose to leave you. If it was up to me, I would have stayed home. But Kira must be stopped. I don't even have to explain to you how true this is. My life is a small price to pay. Even your happiness, Hail. I would sacrifice it to save the world, to be the hero I always play. However, I would spare you all of this hurt if it were in my power._

_If life seems too hard to go on, please remember that I sacrificed my life for the greater good. Don't you dare just give up because you can't hold on anymore. I'm not your fingers, Hail. For four years, you lived without me, and you'll do the same now that I'm gone. Without me, your heart will still beat, the world will still turn, and the good guys will still beat the bad guys. You might not be able to get up at first. You might have to rest your body because of the bad fall, and that's natural. People die every day. Every day, there is someone like you, either just falling or finally getting up again. Other people have gone through your pain, and there will be more to follow. If you think you're alone, then you're wrong. Everyone in the hideout will stay with you. And Mello's there, unless he's gone, too._

_Bury me in the back of your mind. It won't hurt me, I promise. Don't be a martyr. That was my job. Hehe, I guess this isn't the time to joke. If you can forgive me, please do. If you can't, I understand. Thank you for marrying me._

_I know that this doesn't sound like me, but when I might not come home, there isn't time to not be as blunt as possible. I hope you see how I think of you. I know how you think of me. I saw it in your eyes at the altar.  
_

_Love,_

_ Matt"_

Under where the paper had been was his wedding ring, but you didn't notice it. The tears poured like a faucet that wouldn't shut off. You put the letter down on the floor and curled up, trying to calm yourself. Your incessant sobs got you lightheaded, but nobody came in to help you. There was nothing anyone could do for you. Not unless they could bring Matt back.

Your eyes drifted up to the television. The colors on it were blurred from tears and melted into each other. The volume must have been all way down. Had he done that on purpose? Knowing that if he didn't come home, the music would be too much, but not having the heart to save the game and turn it off because of the hassle it was to turn it back on if he did survive.

You lowered your head again and sobbed more. They were a little less intense now. You were still a little dizzy, but it wasn't as bad.

When the tears stopped, you stood and caught a glance of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were surrounded by black bags, and your body had lost weight from the week without food. You were still chubby, even with the drastic weight loss, which kinda pissed you off. Then you sighed and a few more tears fell.

You ran to the bathroom and threw up in the toilet, the pain of your loss flowing out of you.

--

That night, you decided to leave. You had to get out. Like in your dream, you grabbed only the four pictures. You pulled them out of their frames and placed them in your pocketbook. Then you grabbed the two notes and Matt's wedding ring. You tried to put it on over yours, but it didn't fit. You frowned and placed it on your pinky. It fit snugly there and you smiled for the first time in almost two weeks.

You left your room. Unlike in your dream, there was someone waiting.

"Good to see you well, Hail. Going out on a midnight shopping spree?" the man asked.

You took a deep breath and calmed yourself before you killed him. "Possibly."

"Well, I'll come with you."

"Why can't I go alone?"

"Orders."

"Your orders were to protect me, not suffocate me."

The man shrugged. "We weren't given specifics."

Damn specifics! "Let me go," you ordered.

The man sighed with irritation. "Can't." He blocked the door. You frowned and went back to your room.

--

_It's not a long way down. Not really,_ you thought as you stared out your window. You took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer to Matt. You leaped and caught onto a tree branch frantically. Your fingers locked around it as your body swung freely. In a split second, you saw the image of Matt and Mello swinging on the branch next to you. You saw them being forced to let go, as if someone was stepping on their fingers.

Instead of letting go, you climbed up, almost falling off three times. Eventually, you made it onto the top of the branch. _Thank you, swimming class, _you thought, looking at your flimsy, but existent arm muscles. You climbed down. Three branches from the lowest branch, you missed your step and fell down, hitting one of them and thumping to the ground.

"Shit," you whispered to yourself. You rested on your back, in too much pain to stand up yet.

This was ironically like Matt's letter. Thinking of his letter gave you strength. As if invisible hands grabbed you and pulled you up, you were on your feet again. It still hurt, but you didn't have time to just sit there.

"Hail!" The watchman was at your window. He had obviously heard the fall and woken the whole house. His head disappeared and you heard footsteps. You couldn't run. You weren't ever fast, so you couldn't outrun them, especially in your state. You ran to a shadow and held your breath as they rushed passed you, too nervous to be thorough.

--

You were on your way. Bruises formed from the fall but stopped hurting. You thought of Near, but you couldn't stand seeing a Wammy's friend. It would hurt too much. You were just escaping from the pain, and you weren't going to go looking for it again.

You didn't sleep that night. You walked in the shadows, avoiding the headlights of every car, because every car was looking for you. No one else was out at this time of night except those who wanted to cage you up forever because of "orders". Damn, they took things literally.

--

The sun came up, and you didn't know where you were. You had lost your way long ago, and now all you could do was figure out a way to survive.

--

For the next two weeks, you lived on the streets. Then, you got a job at a law firm as a secretary. The lawyer there liked you a lot. His name was Mr. Smith, and he was a man in his late forties, his hair turning gray and thinning in the middle. He had a chubby mid section and thin legs and walked a little like a penguin. He was only about five feet tall, if that. His eyes were huge behind his glasses and were a light blue that looked nice with his light brown hair. He always wore a brown suit with a brown and blue striped tie. He offered to put you through college if you would work with him, but you insured him you already had the education from your orphanage.

"You didn't go to Wammy's, did you?" Mr.Smith asked.

You winced at the word. "Yes, I did."

He brightened and laughed. "Why didn't you say so?"

You looked down, too close to tears to answer him.

He noticed this and nodded. "If you want to work with me, I'd be proud to have you here."

--

Within two weeks, you had your own apartment and making a living as an attorney.

You had the day off, which was wonderful. You sat on a used couch your boss had given you. You weren't making so much that you could furnish your house just yet. Most of the furniture was used. Your apartment was being paid for by your boss, too. Anything for a Whammy child, you supposed.

It was a cool morning with gray skies. You were glad you could stay home on such a cruddy day. You had a plate of scrambled eggs on your lap for breakfast and went to take a bite.

...?

Your stomach turned. You ran to the bathroom and threw your guts up for the first time since that day in the hideout a few weeks back. After a while, your stomach settled and you stood up.

--

This continued every single morning, around certain foods, and at night once in a while.

"When are you due?" your boss asked one day while he was signing papers.

You looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

He didn't look up from his papers. "You know, you can't fool me. I have two kids of my own. I saw my wife go through this twice. You can't fool me."

Your eyes bulged. Kids?

Mr. Smith knew all about your husband. You told him the whole story. As a lawyer, he was obviously not a Kira fan. With no bad guys, how could he make money? So, you told him the whole story. He had reacted awkwardly when you had started crying, but he was very fatherly in the way that he gave you a hug and apologized for your loss.

"I," you laughed, "I'm not pregnant, Mr. Smith." You didn't add that you had only been with Matt, because that would have been too awkward.

"Maybe you should check it out. Go on, kid. You get a break. There's a drug store down the street."

--

Shit.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

That's the only word that went through your mind when the little piss stick turned a light blue with a smiley face on top. Were you supposed to be happy about this?

Even though you were a lawyer, you had only been working for a few weeks. You couldn't support yourself. How could you support a child?

--

"Positive?" Mr Smith asked when you returned to work.

You nodded lifelessly.

He took a deep breath. "Your husband's?"

You nodded again.

He smiled. "See? He _is _always with you."


	11. And The Baby Is Born

Not too much time had passed since you had taken the pregnancy test. Within that time, Mr. Smith had reintroduced himself as the latest lawyer of Wammy's, and the only brother of Roger.

"He told me all about you," your boss told you one day. You weren't on a case currently. You had finished your last murder case yesterday and were taking a day off.

"Oh, yeah? What did he say?" You were interested in knowing what was going down with Wammy's, even though it still hurt. Your heart tugged, and you placed your hand on your chest.

Your boss placed his hand on yours and smiled. "You'll be okay. He said Wammy's is doing well. He told me to tell you he knows a good place to buy action figures. He said you'd know, too, and you should go. He said you'd know what that meant. I didn't know you liked toys, Hail... Hail?"

He looked at you with a concerned expression. Your eyes were far away and clouded with tears. Roger obviously meant Near. You pursed your lips and shook your head. You didn't want to cry in front of your boss again. It made him feel awkward, and you didn't want him to be in a position of such awkwardness again.

He patted your shoulder. "Why don't you try to work?" he asked you, trying to keep your mind off of things. You smiled as best as you could and a tear fell. Damn, you were tired of crying.

**Eight Months Later**

You smiled down at a small baby. The bundle was warm in your tired arms. The small body let out a yawn and then a cry, and you rocked him gently. He had Matt's eyes. You wondered if this was what Matt had looked like as a baby.

"Time for Mommy to get some rest," the nurse sang as she took Matt away from you. Your eyes widened and you almost yelled out a cry of devastation, but your tired mouth wouldn't open.

Your eyes closed and you slept.

**Several Hours Later**

You opened your eyes again and the room was filled with flowers and balloons. Most of them were from your boss and even a few from Wammy's, but there was an especially cute balloon tied down by a weight on the table next to you. It said, "IT'S A BOY!" in happy, swirly letters.

On the string was a note. It read:

_"To: Hail and Matt_

_From: Near"_

"Near...?" you said, the word, neither a question nor statement. Your voice was only a whisper. You tried to talk again, but it was like your voice was strained. You could barely speak.

You thought about it. Name the baby Matt? That hadn't crossed your mind, honestly. You hadn't thought of a boy name yet. You had been hoping for a girl.

Your lips turned at the corners to make a smile. Matt. What a perfect name.

--

The nurse came in that night and told you you had hurt your voice box during labor. She promised it would heal itself, and that you could go home within the next few days, You sent a prayer to Matt, telling him about the baby. Then you sent a thought to Mello, telling him how much you missed him, and that no amount of agony he was in will never be as bad as labor.

Within the past eight months, you won your first big case, proving in not time flat that your client was innocent. You also turned nineteen. More importantly, you realized sweat didn't bother you.

When you sweat, it was like nothing. You didn't even realize it anymore. It would happen, and occasionally you'd worry about why it didn't bother you anymore, and sometimes you'd wonder why it ever did. In labor, all you could think about was the pain. It wasn't horrible, but it wasn't a tickle, either. You didn't notice how sweaty you were until the nurse wiped your forehead.

_Wow, Matt. You **are** always with me, huh?  
_

--

When you were finally home, in a house that you could finally support without your boss' help, you put your baby in his cradle and watched him sleep.


	12. When Fourteen Years Shows Up Again

**Fourteen Years Later**

"Mum."

"Mum?"

"Mum! I gotta go to school. Let's go!"

You rolled over sleepily. You almost got up, but then you said, "it's Saturday."

"Happy thirty-third birthday!" Your son shook you.

You turned in bed and stared at him hard. "Mommy's only twenty-eight, dear," you mumbled, giving him a pat on the arm.

He smirked. He had his father's smirk. His father's eyes. His father's hair. His father's build. Even his father's personality.

He was pretty much a shorter version of Matt, without the cigarettes, video games, guns, and goggles. None were allowed in your house, but he was free to do whatever pleased him over a friends house, as long as he never ever brought up the aforementioned things around you.

He handed you a birthday card that sang "Happy Birthday" to you.

You smiled. "Thanks, Hun." You sat up in bed and he danced out of the room. He came back in with a tray covered in breakfast foods. Your eyes widened.

"I hope it's all OK. I cooked French toast. The rest is, see, fruit, cereal, orange juice. I can make French toast, though. Remember you taught me the other day?" His eyes lit up as you took a bite.

It wasn't all that bad. Not all that good, but it was better than the first time you made your own. You ate all of the French toast, some of the cereal, and all of the fruit.

"Thanks. What was that for?" you asked as he washed the dishes.

You had a house now, and were quite wealthy from your job as a lawyer. Matt, your son, was fourteen and a freshman in high school. He was top of his class, even though it was only October. He never complained about work, which was the only way he was like you. You had never complained about work. Your husband, however, would complain about it and then blow it off. You were glad that, in some ways, your son was like you.

"I can cook a little, so I thought you'd like a gift. I don't have a lot of money, since I just bought a... trip to the mall," he recovered. You guessed that he had gotten a video game, which he would keep at his friend's house because it was not allowed at home.

He'd bitch and complain about that rule, but he never really minded much. You could tell. And he practically lived at his friends' houses, so it didn't really matter.

"Thanks," you responded absentmindedly.

There was a knock at the door. You were in your pajamas, but Matt was dressed. "Can you get that?"

"Yup." He walked to the door and returned with a dozen roses.

"What's that?" you asked, curious to who could possibly have sent you those. Roger? Robert? Robert, as in Mr. Smith, but after all these years, he had just asked you to call him by his first name.

"Err... It says N. What does tha-"

You grabbed the flowers. "N? Near. What does he want?" You weren't as angry as you sounded, just hurt and curious about the sudden blast from the past.

"Near? Who's he?"

"A friend from a long time ago."

"Oh."

You looked at the tag on the flowers. There was a note written in neat script. Your mind was working to fast to process the words completely, but you caught the gist of the message: He wanted to see you.

--

You took Matt to the building where you had spent a little over a week in almost fifteen years ago. It hadn't changed. Nothing around it had changed, except there was a new pizza place next door. There was a pain in your chest. After all these years, what had changed on the inside?

You went through the doors, staring at the security cameras as you did. Matt stood right behind you nervously as you made your way confidently to where Near would be.

The room was room temperature. No extreme cold temperatures. This saddened you and your chest and head tightened. Near must have known you could sweat with no problem, and that hurt your heart.

In the middle of the floor was a man in pure white, sitting on one leg, holding an action figure above his head that you recognized immediately.

"You found it wi..." You couldn't finish your whispered sentence. Your throat hurt from holding back your tears.

"Yes, I found it three months after you left," Near answered. His back was to you, and he didn't turn. Other than Near and Matt, all eyes were on you. Matt was staring at everyone else, one at a time, until they rested on Near's back. Near was staring at his toys.

"Is that they guy who sent you flowers, Mum?" Matt asked.

You nodded. "Yeah. Why don't you sit somewhere?"

"No," Near answered. "Come over here, Matt."

Matt looked at you for a minute, extremely surprised. You nodded toward Near and shrugged. Matt walked over to him, stopping in front of him about a foot away.

"Matt, I'm Near. Do you know anything about your father?"

You gasped in unison with Matt. Yours was variety of negative emotions, his was just curious.

"Don't worry," Near said, bringing his action figure for a flight around his head, "I'm not your father. What has your mother told you about him?"

"Near..." you said, refusing to speak any more. You passed the message that you didn't want to hear any more with just his name.

Near didn't turn to you. "He's fourteen. Let him know about his father."

"She doesn't talk about him. It doesn't matter, I hate him, anyway." Matt's voice was cold, and it confused you.

"Why?" you asked. There was no reason for Matt to hate his father! He didn't even know hi- Oh.

Matt stared at the floor. "He's not here."

"You told him nothing, Hail?" Near's question didn't seem to be very curious. It seemed like he already knew.

"What are you talking about? My dad's a deadbeat, right?" Matt demanded, his eyes lifted slightly to Near.

"Be nice to him, Matt!" You frowned, upset that you had come here. And even though you wanted to leave, to drag Matt home and bury these thoughts, you wanted more for Matt to know about his father. But you weren't strong enough to talk about him yet.

So Near told the story. Matt stood, mouth agape, at the long description Near told him. The story was from practically your husband's first day at Wammy's to the day he d... died.

Matt didn't look at you for a while, but when he did, his eyes weren't angry. He wasn't mad that you had never told him about his father.

"I'm not mad, Ma. I understand that it must have been hard for you, so I'm not mad. Not at all." Matt's voice was so strong, you knew with all your heart he wasn't lying.

Near stood. "So, now, Matt... I have something to give you."


	13. All Too Much Like His Father

"What is it?" Matt asked.

"Come with me," Near commanded. He lead the way to the bathroom, grabbing a box on the way. You heard the shift of the contents inside and lifted a curious eyebrow.

Near closed the door. You heard the muffled voices from inside the cramped bathroom, but you made no move to get closer.

--

You were talking to the staff that worked with Near. There were a handful of new people that you ignored, but the surviving group all seemed happy to see you, and vice versa. You didn't like the new people. You didn't take any time to ask their names or even look their way. Why should you? They didn't belong here, as far as you were concerned.

The bathroom door clicked and you saw light stream out from the side of your eye.

"Mum?"

You turned and saw an angel back from the dead.

Then, your legs gave out and you crashed to the floor.

--

"... that she'd react this strongly," you heard as you woke up. Near was sitting in a chair, tugging at his hair.

You sat up. You were still on the ground.

Near's eyes darted to you, his body perfectly still. "You're awake."

Your eyes searched the room frantically, looking for your son. They rested on...

"...Matt?" you whispered.

He was clad in new clothes. Boots, jeans, a furry vest, gloves, a striped shirt, and orange tinted goggles. His red hair was messy, too, which was unlike him. He usually had it combed, but you guessed Near had messed it up, to make the look complete.

"He should take up smoking," Near joked. Was it your imagination, or was there a sense of sadness in Near's voice? Yes, you were sure there was. His voice was always so stable that you could just tell whenever there seemed to be even the faintest spark of emotion.

But why? Did he miss Matt? Was it because he was looking at your son? Was it jealousy? No, you were sure it wasn't. You frowned at how cocky you sounded.

You didn't cry, even though it was almost like Matt was back from the dead. You couldn't even look at pictures without a tear or fifty, but seeing Matt in the flesh- well, almost- didn't even bring you to tears. This made you sad, but also happy. Sad because you felt guilty that you could look at the twin of your husband without crying, and happy for the same reason. But you knew why. This was your son, he wasn't your husband. You'd see your husband again someday.

You jumped up and hugged your son.

"Mom? What's wrong?" He hugged you back nervously.

"Near, where did you get these clothes?" you asked.

"I can get anything." His tone was a little angry. There was a long pause and he added, "when it comes to material items."

You hadn't heard anything Near had just said. You were too busy admiring how much your son looked like his father.

"What's the big deal, Ma?" he asked, tugging at the vest with nervous fingers.

"This is what your father always wore. I don't know why. He looked like a punk cotton ball on fire." You smiled as you thought back.

"Dad wore this? Exactly these clothes?"

"No," Near answered. "If you were wearing his exact clothes, you'd be covered in blood and bullet holes and you'd smell like smoke. Your father was buried in those clothes. Wammy's made sure of that. Same with L and Mello. Same with me, some day. Your mother is the only one who's fashonably flexible."

Hearing about your husband's gory death made you close your eyes tight and bite your upper lip. You took two breaths and relaxed your muscles. You stopped biting your lip and took another deep breath. Your eyes opened and your eyesight was unclouded.

You noticed your son was thinking deeply. For some reason, he made the same face as Mello when he was scheming. He looked straight ahead at nothing in particular, with no emotion at all until he came to his conclusion. Then he smirked, but he said nothing.

Near watched him carefully, probably marveling at the same thing you were.

"Can I keep these clothes?" Matt asked.

Near nodded.

Matt took a deep, nervous breath. "I.. I want to work with you, Near. Let me help you."

Near looked at you. You stared at Matt. Matt watched Near. Nothing was going too happen unless you spoke up.

"Why?" you asked.

Matt turned to you. "I want to work like Dad."

You massaged your temples. It was better than him going off like your husband had, following someone with blind loyalty and trust.

"You want to work like your father?" Near began. His next words were his train of thought, flying by so quickly it was hard to hear what he was thinking. "Your father would not have been happy working here. Especially with me. You're not your father, though. He disliked me because of Mello. But especially because we're far too professional here. He didn't like leaving the house, but he also didn't enjoy being is such a place as this, looking like the place was made of gold instead of dirt. Although, the only time he gave up gold for anything cheaper was when he bought her," he nodded to you, "ring."

Before Matt could question his words, you spoke. "He bought it?" You looked down at your silver ring and twisted it around your finger.

"Of course. Stolen items weren't good enough for you." He rolled his eyes, although he made it look like he was only looking in a different direction.

This conversation didn't interest Matt in the least. "So can I work with you?"

"You won't be happy here," Near assured him. "You might not be your father, but I've seen enough of you to know that you won't be happy here." Near's face stayed stone still and emotionless. You noticed he hadn't changed much. Not a single wrinkle. No smile line, no frown line, no worry lines. No gray hair, but that would be hard to accomplish with the snow white head he had.

"I don't care!" Matt whined. "Let me stay here. Let me work as a detective, punishing bad guys. Just like my mom does. Just like my dad did. Please, Near?"

Near's eyes turned cold. "No."

--

On the car ride home, Matt sat in the front seat, one foot on the dashboard, arms crossed, staring out the window.

"Why did he say no?" he asked when you stopped at a red light.

"Because, it's true. Ma- your father would never have been able to work there. I can't work there. You'll never be able to."

"How do you know? I'm not you!"

"I just know. There are some things you can and can't do. Working there, in such a tight spot, without any freedom, taking orders from Near.. You'd hate it."

"You don't even know me!"

"I know you enough, Matt."

"Obviously not, if you think you can make such assumptions about me!"

"Your father worked in the mafia, Matt. He worked where it was either do something right or die. Near works in an office, where it's do something right or apologize. I know you. You'd need the danger to motivate you, or else you won't get anything done."

Matt's foot dropped and he turned to you angrily. "I can motive myself with other things, Ma! You can't just say what I can and can't do! Near doesn't have the right to refuse me just because I wouldn't like it! I would quit if I hated it!"

"You wouldn't quit, Matt! You'd just go on torturing yourself with hated work just to do your duty."

Matt mumbled to himself and got back in his old position. He didn't talk to you for the rest of the night.

--

The next morning, you walked into the kitchen, looking for a snack.

_"Mom-_

_I'm not going to be held back. I'm going to make something out of myself, like Dad. If Near won't help me, I'll do it myself._

_ --M"_

You held the note in your hands, unsure of what to do. Your first thought was to freak out over your son, who has decided to live on his own without knowing much more than how to cook French toast. Then you smiled. You pictured him in your old hideout, working against Near for the spot of top dog. You felt like a teenager again, like you were about to watch your life in a replay screen.

--

**Twenty-Seven Years Later**

Your hair was now a thick brown-gray. Your once lively eyes were clouded and far away. Your extra baggage hung loosely on your wrinkled body. Your movements slowed and your voice brittle. You were slowing down, now in your seventies. You weren't dead yet, but, oh, how you were ready for it. Ready to see Matt again in another place. You often wore house dresses because you didn't really care for how you looked anymore. You didn't leave the house much, but you stayed glued to the television, for one reason and one reason only.

You had the news on, waiting to see if Matt would be on it again. You hadn't talked to him much in the years he'd been away, but you saw him grow on television and through stories in the newspaper, and your best source- Near. Once in a while, there would be a new surprise about your son, the way he lived, and the things he did.

Matt had helped Near bring down a Kira-like criminal a decade back, and he had done a lot of jobs that Near hadn't accepted. He worked with Near a bit when necessary, but that day when he was fourteen seemed to have made Near his number one rival. Often, the police were on the lookout for Matt, because he worked in the mafia, but Near would often tell them the wrong lead or assure them he was on it.

Matt was always in trouble, doing things for the right reasons.

Walking right in his father's shoes.

There happened to be a car chase on tonight. A red car came screeching to a halt at an ambush of police cars. There was a stream of cigarette smoke and loud rock music coming out of the open car window, letting you know exactly who it was.

A pain began in your chest, and you prayed it was a heart attack. However, it was just the beginning of uncontrollable sobs.

"Don't get out," you whispered.

Matt got out out of the car.

"Get back in," you yelled.

Matt said something you couldn't hear. You began hyperventilating, your heart racing as if you were on the drug speed. When the police handcuffed him and put him in their car, your heartbeat calmed down considerably. The car drove away and eventually the mob of onlookers dispersed and the news topic changed, all without a single gunshot.

--

The next night, there was a knock on your door, but it opened before you could get to it.

"Hey, Ma," a slightly familiar voice called. You saw Matt standing in the doorway, dressed in the same clothes you had last seen him in. You ran to give him a hug, your now old legs carrying you at a pace marathon runners would marvel at.

You held your son so tight that he had trouble getting air in and out of his lungs. He didn't complain at all. He hugged you back, just as hard.

"Matt! Oh, God, Matt!" you cried, tears streaming down the few wrinkles on your face.

"Are you, OK, Ma?" he asked. You were too overwhelmed to tell him that you had seen the same scene so many years ago, but without being able to hold the man again.

On the television in the other room, the news announcer was saying, "Yes, and that man they caught yesterday? Got away, I heard. Yeah, escaped right out of jail using some technique out of some car jacking video game!"

Matt was all too much like his father.

** THE END**


End file.
